Eleventh Hour
by Bismarck Alexander
Summary: Raccoon City is facing its final hours before everything goes to hell. Jill Valentine makes the most of by taking her mind off of it until then and there's only one way to do that.


I did not originally write this story. It was originally posted some years ago on Adultfanfic by ClockTower but deleted sometime later along with his profile. Luckily I manage to find someone who saved some of his stories.

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The hotel room was small, dimly lit, and it smelled faintly of what Jill Valentine could only describe as sour corn. It was also cheap, and the owners took cash. She'd been between Raccoon City's seedier motels for the past weeks, lying low.

She'd been suspended and disgraced along with the rest of the STARS unit, but she had no illusions about Umbrella Inc. letting them be, not knowing what they knew. She sat on the bed, cleaning her gun and savoring the smell of the gun oil over the funk of the room. She kept her knife within reach, just in case.

With the gun clean and reassembled, she holstered it and lie on the bed, to wait for the phone to ring. She'd told Chris and Barry the pattern she switched hotels on, and they were supposed to call once everything was arranged. They were going to Europe, where the Umbrella was based, to take it down at the top.

Her life had changed drastically since the mansion incident. The things she'd seen there had followed her out, embedded her mind like fungus. She couldn't help but look at the room's wallpaper and think it mirrored her mental state perfectly. Strips of dull color, meant to be vines, were dotted with blue and green blots, likely an imitation of flowers. They represented the anxiety she felt now, knowing she was a target, and the anticipation of being on the cusp of striking back.

If that was the case, she thought, then the beige background was the boredom that crept between the cracks not covered by the fear and nightmares. It some ways it was the worst, as it encouraged her to be reckless, and encouraged her mind to wander to places she didn't want it to go. Television didn't help, but she turned it on anyway. Flipping through the channels with one hand, she grabbed the room's copy of the Bible with the other and skimmed it while channel surfing, looking up when she heard something interesting.

"Hot and steamy," said a female voice, making Jill look up. An attractive young woman wearing red lingerie was writhing on a bed more comfortable than her own. "Order now and get access to twenty-four seven adult entertainment," the disembodied woman's voice continued.

She closed the Bible with a loud thump, and her mind began to turn. She tried to remember the last time she'd pleasured herself, and couldn't. Certainly not since the mansion, she'd been too on-edge.

Jill owned two sex toys. One was a purple club of a device covered in bumps and came with three speeds. She kept that one at home, while the other she'd smuggled to the STARS office and hidden in her desk. STARS members rotated night shifts, and when it was her turn to burn the midnight oil, and the night was quiet, she'd used it. It was eight inches long, black, and thick at the end.

She'd learned to be careful after Rebecca Chambers caught her using it one night. Jill remembered the surprised look on the girls face, and later wondered what her own face had looked like. Instead of turning red and backing out of the room Rebecca had asked if she wanted help. Jill said yes, and Rebecca had knelt under her desk, working the dildo along with her fingers to get Jill off. She'd reciprocated by bending Rebecca over her desk and sliding the dildo into her from behind. Jill was sure someone on the second floor heard them, but if they did they never let on. Their schedules never aligned again and they never spoke openly about what happened.

Jill now thought about the vibrator at her apartment, which was across town. She couldn't justify being away from the hotel room that long, so she would go to the STARS office at the Raccoon Police Department. Aside from awkwardness, there was no reason she couldn't. If asked, she would say she was getting some personal items.

Thinking about the dildo made a bit of moisture appear between her legs. She put on her boots and attached her shoulder holster. Checking her nylons for runs, she threw on a white hoodie over the shoulder-less blue blouse she wore and headed out the door.

It was an unseasonably warm September day, and she tried to let what little breeze there was cool her legs and go up her tight black skirt. She walked to the police station, not wanting to be trapped in the back of a cab and thinking assassins would be less likely to gun her down on a crowded street.

Or would they? Foot traffic had dwindled, she noticed. Around this time of day, on this street, she should have been asshole to elbow with at least a few hundred strangers. There were people out, but many of them, perhaps three in ten, looked like they needed a nap or a bottle of cough syrup. Heads were down, shoulders were scrunched, and hands kept rising to temples to massage them.

Jill went to the first cafe she saw with a copy of the Raccoon Times lying out. She ordered a coffee and skimmed the paper, cursing herself for not following it more. As she suspected, there was an article about the STARS scandal next to another article about a spate of violent crimes sweeping the city. Police Chief Brian Irons had issued a statement saying an influx of drug gangs were to blame.

Jill let the paper flop onto the table and left with her coffee. She wondered if the reporters were being told to shut up or if they were just taking what Irons said at face value. She felt certain that if someone were to look at who these violent people were, they wouldn't fit the standard drug user profile.

-It's happening,- she thought. -This place will be the center of hell this time next week.-

She wanted to shout it from the rooftops, but no one would believe her. Knowing the people around her were as good as dead and not being able to at least tell them was like having a screw driven through her. She tried to convince herself they deserved it for not listening to her and the other STARS, but the sight of a boy trying to walk a dog too large for him twisted the screw deeper.

The dildo was no longer something she merely wanted. She needed it. -I'll fuck myself silly,- she thought. -It's the only thing to do until those two get their asses in gear and come get me.-

She wondered if the city would be eaten by chaos before they came. It certainly seemed to be on the brink. -I'll be long gone before that happens,- she thought, imaging each person she saw as a shambling zombie. She thought her brain would break if she were ever confronted with such a horror; a city full of zombies.

The police station was busy when she walked in and several cops sported bandages on their arms. -Dead men,- she thought, wondering when they'd call out sick with the final symptoms. She wondered if any T-Virus carriers were being held in the station, and considered pointing out how they were living, or un-living, proof her story had been true.

No, she would do no such thing. Just as people could believe what they wanted to spite the truth, so could they deny what they didn't want to believe. She caught a few people looking at her, but most were busy keeping the crowd of civilians in line. A few of them had bites. Many were asking about friends and relatives, filing missing persons complaints, reporting assaults. She was in the hallway outside the STARS office on the second floor before she was stopped by Chief Irons.

"You're not supposed to be here!" he shouted. "Get out, now!"

"I forgot something in my desk. I believe I'm entitled to get it back."

Irons narrowed his brown, piggy eyes. They were alone in the hall and he carried a manila folder under his arm. "I've been through your office already," Irons said. "You won't find anything of use to you there. Not anymore."

She considered shooting him, but thought better of it. "I'm sure you've covered your tracks, Irons, but there's a photograph of my father I keep on desk and I want it back. Unless you think it's proof Umbrella is conducting illegal genetic experiments and you're involved?"

Irons straightened up an his mouth formed into a hard line beneath his mustache. "I certainly hope you've made arrangements to be buried with your little photograph, Ms. Valentine. I can't imagine you'll last much longer."

"Your imagination stinks," she said.

He laughed, and walked past her. "I'm sending someone up here in five minutes to arrest you. Best be gone by then. I can't imaging the STARS being shamed anymore than they already are."

She let him go, wondering if he knew what was happening. -He has to,- she thought. Not wanting to think about Irons, she made haste to the STARS office, which was locked. "Well, I am the master of unlocking," she said, pulling her lock picks from her hoodie pocket.

Jill was expecting a ransacked office, but it was no messier than normal, except for Wesker's section of the office where some file cabinets had been left open. Wesker had been creepy and a traitor, but he'd been neat, so clearly Irons had meant what he said about searching the place.

She grabbed a little brown pouch Barry had insisted not be called his man-purse and began to toss items from her desk in it, should she be asked to show what she was taking.

A stapler, some index cards, a can of Mace, a few bullets, the photograph of her father, which she actually did want, and the black dildo. She felt the weight of it in her hand and squeezed it. Firm, but with a slight amount of squish to it, its surface was smooth yet porous enough to hold lubricant.

Now her paranoia kicked in and she imagined being stopped by Irons at the front door and forced to unload the contents of the bag in front of everyone. He'd find the dildo and perhaps hold it high in the air for all to see.

-Damn-she thought. -I need this. Fingers don't cut it.- She left the dildo out and instead threw in a few more personal effects, plus some of Chris, Barry, and Rebecca's things.

"Okay," she said, holding the dildo in front of her face. "Here's goes nothing." She licked it up and down like a Popsicle, then began to let saliva build in her mouth before she let it run down the tip. Once the formidable object was slick with her spit, she spread her legs and hiked up her skirt. Sliding her panties aside, she relaxed as she pushed the dildo inside her as far as it would go.

"Ugh," she moaned in discomfort. She liked a big, thick cock, but not that much at once. Once it was as far inside her as she could make it, she let her panties go back into position and pulled them up tight. About half an inch of dildo was sticking out of her, and she gave herself a wedgie using her panties to keep it in. Jill imagined it falling out of her as she was stopped at the door by Irons. It would land on the floor with a thump, and everyone would momentarily wonder what it was before piecing the facts together.

She hoped none of the cops she would walk past had prison experience. A good prison guard could tell by a woman's walk when she had drugs hidden in her pussy, and Jill thought a blind prison guard could tell what she was hiding.

Irons was serious about the five minutes. She met two of his followers on the stairs, and they escorted her down. Irons was standing near the door engaged in banter with a sergeant. "Ms. Valentine, I trust you found what you needed," he said when he saw her.

"I did, and now I'll be leaving."

"Not so fast," Irons said. "I'm afraid we'll have to make sure you're not leaving with department property."

She was searched. Her gun caused a stir, but it was her personal sidearm and she had a concealed weapon permit. The bullets were confiscated, as were the effects of the other STARS members. "I should charge you with petty larceny," Irons said. "But I'm feeling forgiving. Don't come onto these premises again, otherwise you will be arrested. Your colleagues will have to send for their own things."

Not wanting to appear to eager to leave, she gave Irons a piece of her mind and left before he could change his about locking her up. Out on the street, after seeing the hustle and bustle at the station, she wasn't so sure she wanted to be in Raccoon for the three days they could legally hold her.

-I've got to the weekend at least,- she thought. -Barry and Chris said they wouldn't be that long, anyway.-

Part of her wanted to stay as long as possible, to take in as much of the city and its people as she could, as she would be one of the few to remember it in its final days. Most of her wanted to get to a bathroom and remove the dildo from inside her, but she settled for a dingy alleyway where she crouched behind a dumpster and slid the cock out. She stuffed the slippery object into a side pocket of the backpack and left the alley.

Her next stop was to the pharmacy where she bought a jar of lubricant and random items to make it look like she hadn't come in specifically for her masturbation needs. She noticed the cold medicine section was depleted and on a hunch, went in search of antihistamines and other itch-reducing products and found them sold out.

-Itchy, tasty,- she thought, remembering the diary of a researcher she'd found in the mansion. It was a rather chilling, if scant, chronicle of the progress of the T-Virus through the human system.

The clerk at the pharmacy didn't look healthy. She was younger than Jill, but looked like she hadn't been sleeping. "Cold must be going around," Jill said.

"Yep," the clerk replied, her eyes focused loosely on Jill's items as she rang them up. Jill noticed the corner of her mouth rise when she scanned the lubricant. "S' good stuff," she said.

"Yeah," Jill said, managing not to blush. "Night life's been kind of dead."

The clerk laughed, some of her natural prettiness returning. "You can say that again. All those murders and this damned bug going around. I should've just called out sick. Maybe I will tomorrow; it doesn't feel like it's getting any better."

"You should," Jill said. "Wrap yourself in a blanket and drink all the cocoa you can make." She fought hard the urge to ad "Get a gun and blow your brains out while you still can."

Her responses became shorter and she acted as though she were in a hurry, not wanting to stand in front of the clerk anymore. She could see the zombie she would become, how the humor in those bright blue eyes would become vacant hunger, how her skin would sag before falling off, how her light blond hair would come out in bloody clumps. She'd chew her own lips off, maybe.

The quest to get the dildo had now contributed to Jill's need for it. Between the streets, the station, the depleted pharmacy, and the sick clerk all signs pointing to a coming horror of massive proportions. Each sick person she saw would become a zombie and infect each healthy person she saw, or kill them. She knew if she went to the hospital, she would see just how bad it was going to get, as she'd reasoned that place, far from being a sanctuary for the ill and injured, would become ground zero for the virus.

Back at the motel, she requested a room on the second floor but was denied. After checking to make sure she'd received no messages, she made sure the blinds in her smelly room were closed and locked the door.

She felt hornier than she'd ever been. Her brain knew it needed a distraction and was telling her pussy to become moist and ache. Her hands were shaking in anticipation as she removed her hoodie, holster, and boots. Not wanting to disrobe completely in case she needed to move quickly, she settled for taking off her panties and pulling up her skirt, leaving only her thigh-high nylons and her blouse, which she pulled down to expose her breasts.

She gave each breast appreciative gropes, imaging someone else was doing it. Jill loved her tits being played with, and she teased herself with them. The sun was still shining in the blinds, and so she took her time, figuring she had most of the afternoon to kill.

With a coat of lube, the dildo entered Jill, this time not as deep. She lie on her back with her legs pulled back. One hand worked the slippery dildo in and out, while the other fondled her breasts. Her first orgasm came quickly. She kept the dildo going in and out, moaning and squirming as it went. She moaned louder as the waves of pleasure rocked her, letting them wash away thoughts of the mansion and the doomed city.

Five minutes hadn't gone by, and she sighed.

"Alright," she said to the dildo. "Let's play a game. I'll call it, 'how many ways can I fuck a dildo?'"

She didn't explain the rules, but tried to think of positions to do herself in and then keep them up for at least half an hour, or longer. First, she got on her knees after sliding most of the cock into her, then worked it up and down with the limited room she had while she watched the clock. She didn't last long after the half hour mark, and let herself fall forward onto her elbows as she came.

Her next position was harder, but she managed a full hour at it. She stayed on her elbows and knees with her ass stuck in the air, meanwhile she worked the dildo behind her as best she could. The next position was a cheat, she admitted. She lie down on her side and gently worked the dildo around, letting the orgasm build over an hour and a half.

"Ah," she said, pulling the dildo out. The sun was hanging low in the sky, and her pussy was sore. Still, she was bored and wanted to push herself. Lubing it up double, she put her legs behind her head and gently guided the tip of the cock into her anus. She grunted softly as it spread her apart and went in deep. She moved it back and forth, gently, and found she rather liked it. With a free hand, she massaged her clitoris. Normally her fingers weren't enough, but something about the thick phallus in her ass set her off, and soon she was coming as hard as she had the first time.

Out of breath, she let dildo slide out of her. "No more," she said.

-Oh, no,- she thought back. -Take a break and get back at it. Come on, this is a marathon. You can't sleep yet and thinking's not an option.-

"Can't come anymore," she said to no one in particular.

-You can and you will,- she thought. -Get in the shower. Wash the dildo and don't come out until you've come. Twice.-

She hadn't been this hard on herself since the police academy, and so she slid off the bed and took off her clothes. Staggering to the shower, she fiddled with the knobs until she got the desired temperature, hot, and let her self get clean before dragging the dildo over her slit. "Two times," she said. "I can do this."

She pushed the dildo into her, while massaging her right breast. Concentrating, she vividly remembered the night with Rebecca Chambers, recalling each detail. Everything from how she'd moved to what she smelled like. Jill came in the shower and sank to her knees as the tension in her body released.

"No...no more," she said as the water crashed onto her back.

-Yes more,- she thought. -Go slow, but twice was the goal here.-

Lying on her back with her head at the other end of the tub, Jill allowed herself a break. She thought of Chris, as she sometimes did when she was bored. Her was cute and in shape, but they worked closely together and for some reason she rarely thought of him in that way. She imagined him and Rebecca in the STARS office. Jill was on the desk with Chris' thick cock inside her while Rebecca straddled her face, letting her lick between her legs.

She held the image until she felt up to giving herself another go. There was pain when the dildo went in, but it felt good at the same time. "Last time, then some television," she said, slowly pushing the cock in and drawing it out. She worked a twisting motion in with it, and just as her hands and feet began to prune, and orgasm tore through her, leaving her too drained to remove the dildo.

When she was able to move, she shut the water off and crawled out of the bathtub. She dried off on the floor, and went back to the bed on her hands and knees, where she turned the television on and found the local news.

"Police are urging everyone to stay indoors," said a skinny, brown-haired newswoman. She stood on a street near a police car. Behind her were more police vehicles and a line of cops pushing against a crowd of people. "While we haven't been able to get anything official, sources tell us the violence began sometime before sunset in scattered locations throughout the city, including the hospital. We have unconfirmed reports that the people responsible for the violence are suffering some sort of illness, turning them aggressive."

Jill expected the phone to suddenly ring and Chris to be on the other end telling her it was time to go. It stayed silent, and she got dressed. There wouldn't be a reason to keep her gun hidden now, so she tied the hoodie around her waist and discretely tucked the dildo out of sight. She went to the window and peered through the blinds. The parking lot being lit by a car's headlights. She watched it for a minute before realizing it wasn't going anywhere.

When the dark forms of two people, drunkards to a person who didn't know better, staggered in front of the beams, casing their shadows over the hotel walls, Jill stepped away from the window and turned the lamp off. She kept the television on and watched the news.

She'd been in town too long.


End file.
